


The Trouble With Cell Phones

by Bookworm1063



Series: Phone Calls [1]
Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:53:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22233601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bookworm1063/pseuds/Bookworm1063
Summary: Five times Ronan doesn't answer his phone, and one time he does.
Relationships: Ronan Lynch/Adam Parrish
Series: Phone Calls [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1888543
Comments: 10
Kudos: 176





	The Trouble With Cell Phones

**1.**

Ronan was sprawled out on his bed at Monmouth Manufacturing, staring up at the ceiling, counting the cracks in the drywall. In the other rooms, Gansey and Noah weren’t sleeping; Ronan could hear Gansey in the main room, laboring over his miniature model of Henrietta, and Noah in his bedroom, doing something. Every now and then, groans and whimpers would float in through the wall. Maybe he was watching cartoons.

On the dresser, Ronan’s phone lit up. It was on silent, but it began to buzz.

Ronan ignored it.

The phone continued to buzz, and when it finally stopped, it only lay quiet for a few seconds before starting up again.

“Lynch, please, for the love of…” Ronan’s door opened. Gansey was silhouetted against the light from the other room. “Just answer it.”

Ronan considered telling Gansey to go to hell, but Gansey had already stepped over the threshold, never mind that Ronan’s room was a sacred space, and tossed the phone up onto the bed. He stepped out again and closed the door behind him.

Finally, the phone stopped buzzing. Ronan rolled over and reached for a pillow, already bracing himself for the nightmares.

Then the texts started arriving.

_Progress reports arrived today._

_Have you seen your grades?_

_Did you even bother to show up to class once this semester?_

It was Declan. Ronan picked up the phone and made to throw it back on top of the dresser. He missed, and it hit the corner with an ominous crunch, falling to the ground in what sounded like several pieces.

If Adam found out about this, Ronan would be dead. He didn’t know how much his phone cost. Probably too much.

Ronan resolved never to mention it and buried his head in the pillow, blocking out the sound from next door.

**2.**

Ronan was making his way around Henrietta’s roads, going at least twenty miles over the speed limit, when his phone began to ring in the cupholder. He ignored it, breezing through a red light and pushing the BMW to twenty-five over the speed limit.

Whoever was calling did not call again, but they must have texted, because the phone buzzed once and then fell silent. Ronan took a left turn, ignored three stop signs and an order to Yield to Pedestrians, and spun into the lot at Monmouth. He gave his phone a cursory glance as he turned the radio off.

**Gansey:** _We’re meeting at Nino’s. Do me a favor and pick Adam up from work._

Ronan swore and flipped the music back on, throwing the BMW back out onto the road again.

**3.**

Ronan stood in the living room of the Barns, trailing his fingers back and forth over the coffee table’s surface. Matthew was sitting on the sofa, playing a game on his phone and chatting amiably, not seeming to mind that Ronan wasn’t really listening.

“…and then Declan said- hey, Ronan, the couch is buzzing.” Matthew stood up and slid his phone into his pocket, looking confused but unconcerned.

“Oh, fuck.” Ronan slid his arm between the couch cushions, ignoring the unpopped popcorn kernels and candy bar wrappers. His fingers touched something cool and metallic, and he fished out his phone.

The caller id said _Sargento_ , and Ronan chose to ignore it.

“Who is it?” Matthew asked. Ronan tossed the phone back onto the couch.

“The Maggot.”

“Blue? Blue’s great.”

“Sargent’s fine.” Ronan crossed the room to his father’s desk and pretended to riffle through the drawers, listening to Matthew’s voice fill the silence.

**4.**

Ronan had just pulled into the parking lot at Boyd’s when his phone rang. It wasn’t the dull tone he’d programed for Declan, the old-timey jingle for Gansey, or the soundtrack of running water and rustling leaves for Adam, so Ronan assumed it was unimportant.

The phone kept ringing, and Ronan turned up the Electronica, waiting for Adam to exit the shop. The phone rattled against the cupholder in time to the beat, turning slightly so Ronan could see the screen. Cheng1 was calling.

Ronan was almost curious enough about whatever Henry was calling him for to answer the phone, but just then, the passenger side door swung open and Adam climbed into the car. He immediately reached for the volume knob on the radio and turned it down. “You could just answer it, you know.”

Ronan knew Adam didn’t expect a serious answer, and so he said nothing at all. Adam reached over his shoulder for the seatbelt, and Ronan allowed himself to watch for a moment, now that he was allowed to look.

Adam fished Ronan’s phone out of the cupholder. “What does Henry want?”

“How the fuck would I know?” Ronan had completely forgotten about the call.

**5.**

Ronan slid his fingers under the hem of Adam’s tee shirt, pressing him further back into the couch cushions. Adam curved one arm around Ronan’s waist, the other around his neck.

Somewhere on the floor, in the pocket of Ronan’s jacket, his phone began to ring. Ronan’s mouth was busy doing other things that were not talking, so he didn’t answer it.

The phone continued to ring, and Ronan continued to ignore it. Adam pulled his mouth away from Ronan’s and said, “That might be important.”

Ronan shook his head. “I doubt it.” He pressed his lips to the edge of Adam’s jaw.

“Are you sure-”

“For God’s sake, Parrish, do you really want me to answer the fucking phone?” Ronan trailed his fingers along Adam’s ribs and watched him swallow.

“You can if you want to.” Adam smirked mischievously. 

Ronan did not answer the phone.

**+1**

Ronan was curled into a ball on the far left side of his bed, watching the dream clock on the nightstand, which showed the moon as it moved across the painted night sky. The rest of the bed felt unbearably cold without Adam’s warmth. Adam had slept at St. Agnes as often as he had slept at the Barns, but sleeping alone had gotten far worse in the week since Adam had left for Harvard. 

On his desk, the phone rang. The ringtone was running water and rustling leaves.

Ronan practically threw himself out of bed and snatched up the phone.

“Hello?”

“Parrish. It’s three in the fucking morning.”

“Yeah. I thought you’d still be up.”

“Don’t you have class or something tomorrow?”

“Not until the afternoon.”

Ronan hesitated for a moment. “I…”

“What?”

“Nothing. Forget it.”

“I miss you too.”

Ronan didn’t have the words in English, so he used Latin. _“Tamquam.”_

_“Alter idem.”_ Ronan could practically hear Adam’s smile. He put the phone on speaker and slid back into his bed, cradling it to his chest.

“You should sleep.”

“You, too.” But neither of them hung up.

“Will you stay?” Ronan couldn’t believe he was asking.

“Yeah.”

Ronan placed the phone next to his ear. He heard Adam shifting things around, and the squeak of bedsprings. The sound of Adam’s breathing filled the room.

Ronan fell asleep. 


End file.
